


not enough

by rinthegreat



Series: Established Shance in a "Canon"verse [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, First Time, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Season 4 Episode 1, Season 4 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 04:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12357333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinthegreat/pseuds/rinthegreat
Summary: Shiro and Lance have sex for the first time.





	not enough

**Author's Note:**

> HOOOOOOOOO boy I got this up fast. Finished the season less than 3 hours ago, and I already have a fic written and edited for you wtf. To be fair, I was planning on writing a Shance first time set either in the in-between of S3 and S4 or within S4, so I was looking for a good place. And it popped out like right at the beginning. Hallelujah.
> 
> My beta is super busy, so this is unbetaed. I edited while half asleep, and it's a little rough, but I'm actually pretty happy with it. I hope you guys enjoy it! <3

There are too many Galra ships, far too many for four lions to fight alone. They need the fifth lion; they need Voltron. But right now four is all they have, and it’s going to get them killed.

“Allura! I need your help!” Lance shouts, muffled on the comm. “I got two on my tail!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t get to you. They’re all over me,” comes Allura’s harried response.

Shiro clenches his fist, unable to handle it anymore. He can’t stand here and do nothing while his friends, while _Lance_ , is out there getting hurt. Or worse. He turns abruptly from the screen. “What are you doing?” Coran asks, sounding as nervous as Shiro feels.

“Whatever I can.”

Truth be told, he hasn’t tried to pilot Black again since that first time. No matter what Lance says about him just needing to trust himself again, no matter what Keith says about him being the real leader Voltron needs…it’s too hard. The fear that Haggar and her druids did _something_ to him is present in the back of his mind, coming to the front every time he looks himself in the mirror. But now, as he enters the cockpit again, he pushes it aside.

The needs of Voltron outweigh his fears. It’s been months since he’d been rescued, and nothing has triggered him to turn on his friends.

His fists tighten around the controls as he hears his teammates’ voices echo in his helmet, the situation outside getting more dire by the second. _Please_ , he thinks desperately, _please_. “Please,” he grits out as Lance demands to know where Keith is. “People’s lives are at stake. You trusted me once. Trust me again.”

Slowly, shakily, but unmistakably _there_ , the console in front of him flickers purple, and the black lion glows, coming to life. Oh, thank god, Shiro breathes. Thank _god_.

\---

They escort the refugees the rest of the way before landing back in the castle, but even though time has passed since the battle, Shiro’s pulse is still pounding in his ears. He’s piloting Black again. He’s a paladin again. He’d taken a gamble and it had paid off.

Lance could’ve died.

His hands shake when he finally pushes away from the console and walks out of the cockpit. But he doesn’t make it very far.

“Hey.” His eyes snap straight to Lance’s. “Congratulations. Looks like you learned to trust yourself again.”

Shiro stands there, blinking at Lance for a beat, before his legs start moving again. Lance’s eyes widen as he approaches, mouth dropping open to say something, but Shiro’s already there. He engulfs Lance in a tight hug, burying his face in his neck. “I almost lost you,” he whispers hoarsely.

“It was a close call,” Lance admits, patting him on the back.

But no, he doesn’t get it. This isn’t the first time he’s almost lost Lance, almost lost any of the team. But this is the first time he’d almost lost them all without being able to do anything. If he hadn’t, if Black hadn’t turned on for him, Lance could’ve…he would’ve…

Shiro lifts his head, grasping Lance’s chin and turning him in for a kiss. He’s usually far gentler than this, but he’s barely in control of his limbs right now, fingers still shaking as they hold Lance’s face. If Lance minds, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his own fingers push through the short hairs at the back of Shiro’s neck, his nails scratch against Shiro’s scalp.

When Lance sucks Shiro’s lip between his teeth, he loses it.

Lance has always been too much for his frayed self-control, and all it takes to snap what little is left is one too many near death experiences. He wraps his arms around Lance and lifts him up. Shiro carries him, stumbling back into his lion while doing the best not to break the kiss. It doesn’t work, but Lance makes up for it, dropping his teeth to the sensitive skin below Shiro’s ear and biting him there.

Shiro nearly drops him. “Fuck…Lance…” he gasps.

“Too much?” Lance whispers the question into his ear, fingers already working the clasps on Shiro’s armor. His back piece falls off with a harsh clunk, the chest plate only held on by Lance’s own chest pressed close.

Shiro shakes his head. This time, he’s not going to stop him. “Not enough.”

Lance groans, dipping in to capture his lips again. Shiro could set him down, probably should, but the thought of removing even a pinky from Lance is enough to make him pull Lance tighter against himself. Lance grunts, breaking the kiss. “Armor,” he reminds.

Right. They’re both still mostly clothed. Reluctantly, Shiro takes one hand off Lance so he can dispose of his chest armor without hurting them. Lance’s feet drop to the floor followed by the clang of his back plate hitting the ground. He discards his own chest piece, and Shiro immediately pulls him in again.

They’ve never gone this far before. They’ve shared a bed since Taujeer, but Shiro’s never let himself go any further than a few deep kisses. But now that he’s gotten a taste, he can’t get enough. Really, putting Lance down was his best idea, because this way he has the chance to run his hands over every part of his body. Soon though, even that isn’t enough, and Shiro ends up removing the rest of Lance’s armor followed by the body suit.

He stands back, admiring his handiwork, watching as a gorgeous red spreads from Lance’s cheeks all the way down to his chest. “Uh, Shiro? You’re kinda making me self-conscious here…”

If Shiro were a religious man, Lance would be the god he’d worship. He steps closer, spreading his Galra hand across Lance’s stomach, watching the way Lance’s muscles contract at the cold metal. “You’re beautiful,” Shiro declares. He pushes against Lance, just enough for Lance to get the point. The two of them sit down on the floor, and Shiro eases Lance back until he’s lying down.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, eyes flicking between Lance’s own as he tries to find any trace of doubt in them.

But Lance nods. “More than.”

Shiro reaches out, feeling under the pilot’s chair next to them. He grabs the small bottle of lube in there, praying Lance won’t ask about it.

He doesn’t.

“Aren’t you a little overdressed, Takashi?” Lance whispers. Hearing his first name on Lance’s lips is intoxicating – he doesn’t say it nearly enough. Shiro’s already present erection twitches at the sound.

“I can fix that,” he promises, setting the bottle down and removing the rest of his armor and body suit until he’s fully naked.

The pop of the cap being removed echoes in the cockpit, and when Shiro looks back at Lance, he’s already pouring a generous amount on his hand. He looks Shiro straight in the eye as he lowers his hand, breaking eye contact only when he immediately pushes two fingers inside himself. “Lance…” Shiro breathes, hardly able to believe his eyes.

He watches Lance stretch himself, preparing himself just for him. He wants to wait, _needs_ to wait, but the sight of it is even more intoxicating than his wildest fantasies, and Shiro can’t help but stroke himself. And then Lance adds a third finger, and Shiro knows that this is going to end before it can even begin if he doesn’t do something.

“Shiro,” Lance groans. “ _Shiro_.”

He reaches forward, wrapping his fingers around Lance’s wrist. He needs that hand out _now_. “Please,” he begs, voice cracking. “Lance, I need you.”

Lance’s fingers slide out of him, and he reaches for Shiro. As if he needs to. Shiro straddles him pouring more lube on his hand and coating himself in it. This isn’t how he planned it, and the fact that there’s lube in his lion is just _luck_ , but he’s not going to back out now. Not if Lance is allowing it.

He’s stopped by Lance’s hand on his shoulder just as he lines himself up. “Be gentle,” Lance requests, eyes searching both of Shiro’s own.

Shiro bends forward, pressing a kiss to Lance’s forehead. “I’ll never hurt you,” he promises just before pressing in.

The two of them let out twin groans once Shiro gets just the head inside. Lance is impossibly tight, despite being stretched by three fingers. He’s so small, so thin, that Shiro’s afraid he’s going to break him.

Shiro balances himself on his elbows, his entire body pulled taut as he forces himself not to move the way he wants to. Not yet. His fists clench so hard he can feel his knuckles whiten. He focuses on Lance’s face, watching his closed eyes and furrowed brow for a sign.

“Lance?” he asks when it’s been quiet too long. “We don’t have to.”

Blue eyes snap open, filled with fierce determination as they gaze straight at Shiro. Something passes between them, and Lance’s brow smooths, a soft smile appearing on his face. He relaxes around Shiro, the tightness no longer suffocating. “Move,” Lance allows, voice a soft command.

And Shiro does.

He’s too afraid to push in all the way, too afraid to fully let go and thrust into Lance the way he wants. Shiro reigns himself in with the last strand of control, the only thread not snapped earlier, but it’s enough. Lance pulls Shiro down, nails digging into his back as he holds on tight. Lance lets out breathy moans, soft curses and Shiro’s name escaping his lips that he keeps pressed to Shiro’s ear.

Shiro can feel the weight of Lance’s own erection between them, hitting against his stomach with every thrust. It’s accompanied with the never ending chant of _you almost lost this_ running through his mind until he can’t tell if the droplets on his face are sweat or tears. He doesn’t want to think about it.

Instead, he focuses on remembering every second. The smell of battle still filling the air, the little sounds Lance makes, the feel of Lance beneath him, the taste of his skin. He could stay in this moment forever, live a thousand lifetimes here.

But it’s over all too soon.

Shiro nearly wrestles himself out of Lance’s death grip when the heat pools in his stomach. He pulls out, returning to Lance’s embrace almost immediately, whimpering with the feeling of the two of them pressed against each other. He comes after only a few more thrusts, liquid pooling between him and Lance, hitting their stomachs and chests. He kisses Lance’s ear before whispering, “You’re so good to me.”

That’s all it takes to push Lance over the edge.

Shiro lies there, cradling Lance as they both try to catch their breaths. “I’d wanted it to be more romantic,” he confesses eventually. “I thought we could build up to it, do this right. This wasn’t…” He wants to say it wasn’t what he wanted. But it is. He wants Lance, and Shiro doesn’t care if they have sex in a lion or in a five star hotel. He wants _Lance_ , and he’ll always want Lance. No matter what.

“It was perfect,” Lance assures him. “I promise.”

“I love you,” Shiro blurts out without thinking. He’s never thought the words before, but now that they’ve escaped his lips, he realizes just how _true_ they are. “Lance, I love you so much.”

Lance’s eyes are wide as he watches Shiro, dumbstruck. For a moment, Shiro wishes he could take back the words, just so Lance wouldn’t look so scared right now. But then Lance opens his mouth. “I love you too.”

“Thank god.” Shiro drops his head to the crook of Lance’s neck pressing a kiss there.

“Paladins,” Allura’s voice crackles over the comm. Shiro suddenly hopes that she doesn’t have a live feed into Black’s cockpit. “Please report to the bridge. The Blade has completed their mission.”

“Sounds like Keith’s back,” Lance remarks lightly from under him. Keith’s pulling away from the team has affected more than just being able to form Voltron. Shiro knows Lance hasn’t been taking it well, even if he pretends not to care.

Shiro groans, rolling off him. “Time to go back to being the leader.”

Something about the way he said it makes Lance chuckle. “You should probably get dressed first.”

“You get dressed too. The whole team should be on the bridge.”

Lance hums in agreement, sitting up and pulling his body suit towards himself. “I have one question first.”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you have lube in the cockpit?”

Shiro coughs, tugging his clothing on to hide his expression from Lance. “No comment.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr](https://rinthegreat.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/rinthegreat_ao3) for updates and to see ways to support me! :)


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